It's just tragic we lost our magic over a little hat-trick and a gun. It's not Zak or Patrick that lights my matchstick or makes me bolt and run I think about you so far from you and I want to be in The Sun. Now, this other guy, he and I play 'I Spy' and my ex is staying up past 4:00 AM because he thinks he's Ricky Bobby but I've been besieged by your Lucky Charms Before Reno, before KENO I spun that fortuitous wheel only your lips & hips caress & kiss could ever seal this deal. But I think I know what it is you feel.
Where conspiracy theories meet feminist theories. (And sometimes there's poems).